In Dreams
by Foxieglove
Summary: Merton is still in stone, but nobody knows of the war he fights within the dreamworld of his own subconsciousness. A battle neither Tommy nor Lori can help him with . . . it's up to an old friend to come to Merton's rescue.


Merton panted as he ran down the street. His legs ached, oh how they ached, but he had to keep going. He couldn't let it get him . . . not now, when he had come so far.

He saw Tommy's house and felt his heart soar with hope; he was going to make it! Merton bolted up the porch steps, the stitch in his side becoming more and more painful with each step he jumped. He pounded on Tommy's door frantically. It was not too far behind him.

The door swung open and Merton found himself face to face with Tommy. "What do you want?"

Merton was shocked at the coldness in his best friends' voice. "I . . . I . . . I'm in trouble, please, you gotta let me in. There's this thing --"

"What do I care?"

Merton reeled back as if slapped. "Wh-huh? You're my best friend, Tommy . . . I was sorta hopin' that if anybody cared who ate me for dinner it would be _you_!"

"Maybe once upon a time. Not anymore. I hope whatever it is doesn't get indigestion when it tears you limb from limb."

"Tommy . . . I can't believe you'd . . . what did I do wrong? I don't understand . . ."

It had picked up Merton's scent and it was tearing down the street, snuffling with anticipation of the kill.

Merton panicked, he could sense it as it sensed him, but nevertheless, he could see nothing charging down the Pleasantville street.

"What did you do? You kissed Lori! You _knew_ I had feelings for her!"

"Tommy, I'm sorry, please . . . don't shut me out! I made a mistake and I'm sorry --"

Tommy snorted. "You're not sorry! You're just trying to save your skin, just like you've always done! Goodbye Merton. I don't think I'll be missing you all that much."

SLAM!!

Merton watched in stunned disbelief as the door shut in his face. He stood there in shock as he heard Tommy's footsteps walk deeper into the house, then silence. It was almost here . . . slowing down; knowing that he had nowhere else to run to.

"Tommy . . . Tommy listen to me! I'm not trying to save my life!" Merton felt tears well up in his eyes and his heart seemed to be strangled by grief. He wasn't thinking any longer of the thing waiting to tear him apart in the darkness. All that mattered to him now was Tommy. He wanted Tommy back . . . he would do anything.

Merton pounded on the door. "Please don't shut me out!" he cried out in despair when there was no answer. "Please! Tommy!" The tears were falling now, and Merton felt a sob escape his throat. His heart was tightening in his chest and another sob came, followed by plenty more.

He should keep running, he knew, but his strength had run out along with his hope. He could go no farther and already he felt cramps seize his body. He laid with his back against the door, weeping softly, shaking with the amount of pain that was tearing up his soul.

"Don't leave me here . . . please!" he called out to no-one. "Please, please . . . "

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a street in downtown Pleasantville. Papers swirled by him, stirred by the wind. He shivered and climbed to his feet, looking around wildly. Where was he? What was going on here?

"Tommy? Tommy!" Merton shuddered as his voice echoed in the empty street. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm sorry . . ."

A green-haired man wandered the sidewalks of Alex's dream-world. Behind him, a purple elephant was chasing a bunny into the jaws of a crocodile who had swallowed Alex's grandmother and was wearing her polka-dotted mumu. How uneventful.

At least Merton's dreams had been more imaginative. Vincent still remembered the three-eyed crow and the demonic unicorn with glee; now those had been dream-creatures worth seeing!

But this Alex . . . he'd first become the boy's imaginary friend in a little restaurant, after bumping off the stupid clown that had been trying to impress the boy with balloon tricks. Vince had thought that maybe Alex would be fun. He was okay, but nothing compared to Merton . . .

Vincent cursed. "Why is Vince thinking of Merton?! Merton this, Merton that, it's over, Vince. Get a grip!"

The crocodile's mouth slammed shut on the bunny and the purple elephant ran off to find a chicken to stomp on while the crocodile started to attack its mumu.

"Vince is starting to wonder just what this kid's sugar intake is," muttered Vince. "Been too close to the Elmer's glue in school today, Alex, buddy?"

Vince sighed, bored. "Well," he said, clapping his hands. "That's it. An imaginary friend can only take so much. Vince is sure Alex won't mind if he looks through someone elses dreams tonight."

There was a pop in the air as Vince disappeared. Startled, the crocodile gagged on the mumu shreds in his mouth and waddled off, grumbling.

Merton gasped as something green materialized in front of him.

"Heya, little buddy," spoke an entirely too familiar voice. Merton's focus was bleary through the tears still in his eyes, but he knew that voice so well, he didn't have to see anything to know who it was. "Vincent?"

"One and the same, Merton."

"What'ya doin here?" Merton asked, nervously edging toward the wall.

"Vince was bored. He thought he'd just check in on you."

"Check in on me? What happened to the 'maybe you're just a pathetic excuse for a friend' shtick you pulled on me last time we were together?"

Vincent looked hurt. "Oh really, must we dwell on that?"

Merton sighed, and shook his head. Vince squatted next to him and looked him over. "What place is this?"

"I don't really care. I just want to get out of here."

"Well, why don't you wake up? Duh."

"Because I can't! Duh!" Merton shot back.

"Oooh! Vince likes it when you're fiesty!" Vince teased. Then Merton's words sank in. "What do you mean, you can't? This is a dream, buddy. Anyone can wake up from a dream."

"This isn't a dream. I'm trapped here." Merton stared at the darkness and heard something shuffling towards him. "I . . . I . . ." Merton's face suddenly lit up for a moment.

Vince waved a hand in front of his face. "Merton? Yoohooo?"

"Tommy? That you?"

Merton began to head toward a shifting shape and Vince's eyes widened in alarm.

As his former friend headed to the shape, it took form before Vincent's eyes as that wolf-boy that Merton had chosen over Vince's friendship. Vince still bristled at the reminder, but he knew what that thing really was and it was not Tommy.

"Tommy! Thank God you're here--"

Before Vince could cry out a warning, the creature that had Tommy's form lashed out and caught Merton across the face, knocking him hard to the ground.

"You pathetic moron. What makes you think I'm here to save you?" sneered Tommy.

"Wha . . . _Tommy?" _Merton asked, hurt and confused.

Tommy kicked the pale teenager in the ribs and smiled mockingly at Merton's pain. "You always did have a low pain threshold, you little wuss."

Vince stood by, helplessly. One of the most important rules for imaginary friends was this: You could not under any circumstances change dreams. This was Merton's dream and if Vince did anything to stop what was going on, he would be punished severely by others of his kind.

"But this isn't a dream!" Vince muttered as he watched Tommy continue to beat on Merton. "And that thing doesn't belong here."

"You know, I never cared for you, Merton. In fact, I'm just using you to help me with my little wolf problem. But once I find a cure, you're history. I'm gonna walk away from you, you whiny, self-serving, shrimp! Do you understand that? Huh?!"

Tommy kicked Merton in the gut. Merton gasped for air raggedly, and curled around his pain.

"Tommy . . . you can't mean this . . ."

"I do mean it! I may have wanted your help, but I never wanted to befriend a loser like you!"

Feeling his heart break, Merton sobbed aloud.

The creature changed it's shape from Tommy to someone else, and when Merton looked up next, he saw Vince's shape.

"Vince never cared much for you either. Vince wishes he'd left you a long time ago."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. This was going too far! The green-haired man's hands balled into fists, and plasma bolts began to form on his finger-tips. Nobody but nobody impersonated him, for any reason! To hell with the rules, this _thing_ needed to be taught a lesson!

"In fact," The false Vincent was sneering as he towered over Merton, plasma bolts forming on his fingertips, "Vince doesn't see why he shouldn't get rid of you right _now_!"

There was a flash of green and the creature went sailing backwards, losing its shape in the process. Vince calmly blew on his fingertips. With an angry squeal, the creature scrambled to its feet and loped off into the darkness. Merton's pain was an illusion of dreams, and his body was recovering even as Vince watched. But Merton's heart was an entirely different matter.

The green-haired man knelt down by Merton's shaking form. He had only seen Merton cry like this once . . . and it still gave him chills to remember. Gently, before he could remind himself that they weren't friends anymore, Vince put a hand on Merton's shoulder. "Merton? Buddy?"

Merton let out a strangled sob in reply, and Vince felt his heart ache. Gentler still, Vince kept on talking.

"Vince knows that shouldn't ever happen in a dream . . . there's something very wrong with this . . . that thing -- "

"Tommy . . . Tommy hates me . . . He hates me . . ."

Vince grimaced and shook his head, getting up. Vince knew he had been purposely created, but this thing who had attacked Merton had been created unconsciously, a thing spawned from Merton's guilt. But guilt at what? What had happened?

"Vince," Merton whispered, "Don't leave me . . . not you too . . . please, I'm sorry . . . "

"Vince isn't leaving you. Vince . . . is going to help you." Vincent made a face immediately after he said it. What was wrong with him?! Vince didn't help. Vince had fun! What on earth was he doing saying he was going to help somebody?!

He looked down at Merton and saw him still shaking, eyes unfocused and full of pain. Merton stared up at Vince.

"Please . . . please don't look at Vince like that . . ." Vincent begged his former best friend.

"Don't leave me . . ." Merton pleaded.

Vince sighed. "Vince _will_ be back." With a pop, Vincent disappeared out of Merton's dream. And straight into the dreams of another.

--

Tommy took careful aim at the target in the Factory and prepared to throw the football in his hand. "Tommy?" Merton's voice called out to him. Tommy spun around. No sign of Merton. The football fell from his hand and the Factory faded away into an empty street. Tommy blinked, confused at the dream's shifting.

"Tommy!" Merton cried out again, this time full of terror.

"Merton?! Where are you?" Tommy called back. Wherever he looked, there was only darkness.

Merton's voice seemed to come from all directions, echoing about and confusing him.

"Tommy," spoke another voice, directly behind him.

Tommy spun around and came face to face with a green-haired man wearing a checkered suit.

"You!" He yelled and swung a fist at Merton's imaginary friend.

Vince ducked it easily. "Vince isn't here to fight."

"Oh really?" Tommy snarled, wolfing out. He charged Vince again and once more, Vince dodged the blow.

"Merton needs your help!"

"What have you done to him?" Tommy demanded.

"It's not Vince. It's something else . . . in his dreams. He's being plagued by a Corphobiast," Vince said, ducking another swing. Tommy stopped trying to fight, confused.

"A what?"

"A Corphobiast is what happens when you kill a Phobiast."

"So? I still don't understand . .."

"Of course you don't. Vince isn't finished. Corphobiasts no longer have their forms, so they're reduced to haunting dreams. You humans refer to them as nightmares. Which is dumb, because they aren't nightmares. Nightmares are horses of a different color. A Corphobiast makes the person dream about fears within their own hearts. If you don' believe Vince," Vince said, raising his hands, "Ask Merton. He's the one that taught Vince all about this sorta stuff."

"If Merton's in the clutches of this Corphobiast . . . why are _you_ helping him?"

"Vince doesn't think that's any of your business." The green-haired man's eyes glowed, as did Tommy's.

"Nevermind then. What do I need to do to help Merton?"

"Come with Vince."

"What?!"

Vince grabbed Tommy's wrist.

"Let go of me!"

"Vince is sorry, but you must understand. If you want to help Merton, you need to come with Vince."

"I'm not even sure if I trust you yet! How do I know you aren't leading me into a trap?"

"Tommy, Vince thought you cared about Merton," he chided the werewolf. "Vince can't hurt you in your dreams. And even if he could, wouldn't you try to help your best friend any way?"

Tommy sighed. "Alright . .. I'll . . ."

Vince's eyes widened in alarm as he saw Tommy fading. "No! No! Don't wake--"

"-up! Tommy! Come on, _wake up_!"

Tommy sat bolt upright and found himself staring straight into Lori's face. "L-Lori?"

"Do you usually wolf out in your dreams? It's a good thing I'm not your mom! You were talking in your sleep loud enough to wake the dead."

He rubbed his eyes blearily and stared around the room as if he'd never seen it before in his life. "Lori, what are you doing here?"

"Because of this!"

Lori switched on Tommy's bedside lamp and he saw her face glowing with excitement. She handed him a crumpled note. Tommy scanned it over and frowned. "I love you both, I'm sorry, signed Merton?"

Lori turned the note over. "Um, no, read this."

"It's a page reference . . . From Stone to Flesh by William Shatler. I thought he was an actor . . ."

"No, William _Shatner_ is the actor -- oh, who cares?! Merton must have written this down in case one of us got turned into stone by Medusa! Tommy, let's go to the Lair, we've got the cure!"

"Lori . . . just wait a minute."

Lori glared at him. "Aren't you happy we can get him back?"

"Yes . . . but . . . I had this weird dream."

"And?" Lori asked, irritably and clearly not seeing the point.

"It was about Merton . . . and Vince. Vince was telling me that Merton was in some sort of danger. He mentioned a Corphobiast."

"A what?"

"From what I remember . . . a Corphobiast is like the ghost of a Phobiast and it's not a nightmare because--"

"Tommy, you aren't making any sense. It was just a dream. Let's go! For all we know, there could be a time-limit on this cure thing!"

"Jeez, Lori, you're right!" Tommy tumbled out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans over his boxers and pulled on his shirt. "Come on!" He cried, grabbing a furiously-blushing Lori by the hand and pulling her down the stairs towards the front door.

--

"Tommy, you dork, why did you have to wake up?!" Vince cursed. He couldn't leave Merton. Not now. Not while _he_ was here. Vince remembered the last time he'd left Merton alone with this man all too well.

"Pathetic!" Merton's uncle threw a toy across the room, letting it crack sharply off the wall.

"When I was your age, I didn't play with toys like some sissy girl!!"

"Stop it," a young black-haired boy sobbed on his bed.

"No! I've had it! They pick on you at school because you talk to yourself like a retard!! You're making your whole family look like retards! What, does that make you happy?! HUH?!"

Merton sobbed and put his hands to his ears to blot out the hurtful words. His uncle grabbed his hands and pulled them down, forcing the boy to listen. "Who the hell is this 'Vince'? He's no-one, that's who! Just an excuse for not having any friends! Someone to whine to when you get beaten up! He doesn't exist! So stop talking to him!!"

"But he's my best friend," Merton choked out, through his tears. His uncle shoved him away, disgustedly.

"You . . . you really are pathetic you know that? What's it gonna take, Merton? Do I have to send you to a clinic where other abnormal little boys go? To be poked and prodded at with needles until you're dead?"

"Uncle Mark, stop it!" Merton yelled, shaking.

"To get electrocuted? It's called _shock therapy_, Merton, they use it a lot on people who talk to themselves. Do you want that to happen to you?"

"No!" wailed Merton. "You're scaring me, stop it, please!"

"You get rid of this 'Vince' bullshit, and maybe I won't have to send you there!"

"But I _can't_!"

"And why the hell not?" the man demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

"Vince is my friend--" Merton yelped as his uncle picked him up and set him on the ground.

"Get in the car, Merton. We're going to the loony-bin RIGHT NOW! You are sick, do you hear me boy? Sick in the head and those doctors will remedy that, let me assure you!"

Merton struggled and kicked, trying to get away from his uncle as the older man began to drag him out the door.

In truth, the man was probably just going to drive around the block to scare Merton, but the boy believed his uncle word for word that he was going to an asylum. Fear gripped his heart as his uncle yanked him along to the garage and picked the car keys up from the kitchen counter.

"VINCENT!" the nine-year-old screamed again, collapsing to his knees to slow the man down. "Vince help me, please!"

Vincent was crying softly as he reached out to the boy - actually_ crying_ - as his fingertips touched Merton's then went _through_ them. "No . . . no, you've gotta believe Vince can help you!" Vince yelled to the boy, but Merton was too afraid and confused.

Vince could not help him . . . so he cried for the next person he believed in, even though she was still visiting her parents along with Merton's father and baby sister; thousands of miles away where she could not come to his aid.

"Moooom . . . " Merton sobbed.

The older man was not moved. "You'll never see Mom again," he went on savagely, seeming to enjoy this cruel game. "You'll never see Grandma or Grandpa either, or even your little sister! Little boys like _you_ get locked away forever. All alone in the dark unless it's a scientist comin' to take you for lab tests."

"Noooo!" the boy's voice sounded so hoarse from screaming that it made Vince flinch.

"Hey," the man said, letting go of Merton, who curled up on the floor sobbing with fear. "Hey, you want to stay home?"

"Y-y-yes . . ."

Vince moved to kneel by Merton's side, trying to gather the boy in his arms, comfort him, anything . . . such a far cry from how Vince usually acted, that to look back on it actually frightened him.

"Then tell me Vince isn't real."

Vincent froze, and looked up at Merton's uncle with hatred.

"Say it!" the older man yelled. "Say that he isn't real! That he's just a figment of your imagination! Say it, or we're going now!"

Merton lifted his tear-streaked face and swallowed painfully, his throat made raw from his screaming; heart beating in terror.

"_Now_, Merton!! This is the only chance I'm giving you!"

Vince looked at the boy and the boy stared through him. Already . . . already Vince is fading from him . . . Lord of Dreams, please no . . . Merton, little buddy, hang on . . .

"I . . . I don't believe in . . ." the boy faltered, and began sobbing again. He knew it was hurting Vince; he could feel Vince's pain. "I can't --"

"DO IT!! Do it, or I will give you the _belt_, so help me God!"

"I . . . I don't believe in Vince . . . " Merton said, fast to get it over with.

Vincent felt something passing through him . . . a hand . . . a cold hand yanking him back into the world of dreams, denying his existence in Merton's world . . . a hand that would turn him into a mindless shadow of childhood memory.

Merton felt Vincent slipping away, and cried out in protest.

"Vince! Vincent, no, please I'm didn't mean it! I believe in you!! Come back, please! I'm sorry!"

Vincent took a ragged breath and reached out his hand, eyes pleading with Merton to take it - to reinforce what he had just said. Merton thrust his hand forward and this time, their fingers touched and did not miss.

Vincent felt the icy grip in his soul leave him be, and he fell to his knees beside the nine-year-old who crawled over to him and buried his face in Vince's chest, crying with relief. Vince was almost about to relax when he happened to look up at Merton's uncle and saw the expression on his face . . . and the hands moving to undo the belt at his waist.

"Oh . . . Merton . . ." Vincent opened his mouth to warn Merton seconds too late as the first of many blows rained down.

"NO!!" Vincent yelled, jumping to his feet. Merton lost Vince's support and cried out in fear as well as pain.

Vince, angered beyond reasoning, swung a fist at Merton's uncle, dismayed at how it passed through. _He doesn't believe in Vince . . ._

Merton wailed and writhed under the blows, sobbing for forgiveness. It was more than Vince could bear. He closed his eyes, shaking, summoning all that was in his heart to give to this boy . . . drawing strength from his desire to protect.

"DAMN YOU!!" Vince screamed, opening his eyes and looking straight into the older man's eyes. Merton's uncle stared right back, not seeing Vince, but seeming to suspect that something was there . . .

Vincent's fist struck out again, and this time, knuckles connected with flesh.

Merton sobbed on the floor, anticipating more blows. When he heard the soft thud of a body falling, he raised his head and saw his uncle stretched out on the floor, unconscious with a trickle of blood seeping from one of his nostrils.

Merton felt arms around him, helping him; lifting him gently to his feet.

"Vince . . .?" he whispered, eyes wide.

The green-haired man nodded silently.

"How did you . . . ? How did you _do_ that?"

"Because you're my best friend . . ." Vince wanted to say, but a hand was already creeping out of the world of dreams to drag him before his Lord . . . Morpheus.

Morpheus hadn't been pleased. Not at all. Vince trembled as the Lord of Dreams regarded him with stone-cold eyes; eyes that held as much darkness as they held wisdom.

"Why did you break your oath?" he demanded. The ice in his voice nearly froze Vince down to the core.

"V-Vince . . . couldn't let it happen . . ." he tried pitifully to explain.

Morpheus frowned and shook his head. With a lurch, Vince realized his excuse wasn't acceptable and he was going to be punished in the worse way possible . . . he was going to be _forgotten. _

Children grew out of imaginary friends as they got older, true, but to be forgotten while the child was still young . . . still had beliefs . . . it would be as if Vince had never existed to Merton -- the boy who had created him out of dreams and loneliness.

Who Vince - yes, he had to admit it - loved.

"Please, don't!" he whimpered, knees trembling. "Vince doesn't want to lose him! He didn't mean to break the oath! But that _thing_ who dared call himself Merton's uncle was --!"

Morpheus held up a hand for silence, though his features were somewhat softer. "I know very well what the man was doing. Merton's plight is shared throughout the world. I am touched, however, that you care for the boy. Such devotion is rare. Imaginary friends are usually clowns; created to amuse and delight a bored child. Perhaps Merton created you to care for him as well . . . or perhaps the love you have for this boy is your own.

"Nevertheless, I regret that I will have to make him forget you."

"But why!?" cried Vince, distressed.

"He will depend on you to protect him now. He knows you're real. It is inexcusable to the humans to believe in dreams alone; and thanks to your actions, Merton will perhaps go through life depending on you and your magic. Unless, he forgets you."

"Lord Morpheus, please, Vince nearly lost him already . . ." the green-haired man begged.

"Vincent. If you love the boy, you'll let him go."

Vince glowered defiantly. "Merton won't forget Vince. No matter what. You'll see."

Fighting the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, Vince backed away from the Lord of Dreams, and jumped back into Merton's world.

"Little buddy?" Vince queried, looking around Merton's room. He saw the boy on the floor, playing dispiritedly with two of his action figures.

"Grrr," Merton made Skullmaster say as the action figure stomped all over He-Man. "Bad guys win this round!"

"Oh no!" He-Man wailed in a girlish voice. "Save me, save me!"

Vince smirked and sat down to watch.

Merton walked over to his toy chest and fished around until he found what he was looking for.

Raphael the Ninja Turtle was soon on the scene threatening to karate-chop SkullMaster. SkullMaster beat the crud out of him and sent him sailing back into the toy box.

"How dare you hurt my boyfriend!" April O'Neil squeaked, jumping up and down in front of SkullMaster who could not have looked less concerned.

"Go home, lady."

"No! I'm gonna beat you up!" Merton made April insist.

"Hahaha! You can't do anything to me! You're just a girl!" laughed SkullMaster.

"There is one thing I can do!" April declared and kissed SkullMaster square on the plastic mouth.

"EUUUURRRGH! COOTIES!" yelled SkullMaster and went sailing into the toybox, presumably dead from the disease. Merton allowed April O'Neil to do a little victory dance on the carpet, before tossing her in also.

Vince applauded the show, laughing in merriment.

But Merton did not appear to hear him. The boy sighed and rubbed his aching backside, trying to remember why his uncle had beaten him this time. Oh right. The action figures. But hadn't there been something else?

Deep in thought, the boy drew his knees up to his chest and tried to think on what it was.

Vince got up and walked around to sit in front of Merton, concerned that the boy was still sad.

"Heya, little buddy. Wanna play?"

Merton didn't even look up. Starting to feel panic, Vince waved his hand in front of Merton's face. "Buddy?"

He hadn't forgotten Vince . . . no, he couldn't have. They were best friends. Vince had promised he'd always be there for Merton; Merton loved him! Didn't he?

Vince stood up and backed away, horrified. Footsteps started running up the stairs and the boy gasped and jumped to his feet.

"Oh no, Uncle!" Without warning, the boy rushed forward. Startled, Vince staggered back, tripped, and fell into the toy-chest. Before he could even stand up, the lid slammed shut over him and the sound of a latch being frantically locked was heard.

Merton turned around, just as his door banged open.

"Your mother's on the phone," snapped his uncle and thrust it at him. Merton took the phone and put it to his ear, staring up at Uncle Mark. The man stared down at him for a long moment then left.

"Hello?" Merton ventured.

"Merton! Are you alright?" exclaimed his mother. He could hear his baby sister Becky wailing in the background. "Your uncle said someone broke in and attacked him! What happened?"

"I . . . I don't know! He just fell down." Merton began to tremble. "Mom, he said he was gonna take me to the asylum for playing with toys. He's not, is he?"

Merton's mother huffed angrily. "That fool! He was probably drunk! Oooh, when I get my hands on him . . . Merton, sweetheart, listen to me. I've been meaning to talk to you about the toys, but I want you to know I would never, absolutely _never_ send you away to an asylum. And neither would your uncle. He was just drunk and so help me it will _not_ happen again. Okay?"

"O-okay."

"Now, about those toys . . . I think you're a big boy now, Merton. And you should be outside playing and having fun, not cooped up in your room. I want you to promise me . . . promise me that that toy chest will stay locked. You can keep whatever's in there, but keep it locked until the day comes when you open that chest to reminisce, or give those toys to your own children."

"But --"

"No buts. Please, Merton. I want you to get some sun on that pale skin. From now on you can only stay inside if you read," his mother decreed.

"Okay, Mom," Merton promised, intending to start up a personal library of books which would grow steadily for the next ten years of his life.

"And Vince too, Merton."

"Vince?" Merton's face was a mask of confusion. It was not lost in his voice either.

"Yes, Vincent! I don't want to hear you talking to or about him again. Do you understand?"

"Okay, Mom . . . I won't," Merton said. _But who is Vincent, anyway? _Merton wondered to himself.

From within the toy-chest, Vince felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

"It wasn't your fault," Vince muttered to the young man, now in his arms. Merton's welts were starting to heal and he was no longer the nine-year old boy crying on the floor. "Vince hated you because he thought you betrayed him. But it wasn't your fault. It was _his_. If Vince had been there for you instead of losing control and punching your uncle . . . Vince could've been there forever."

"What are you babbling about now?" hissed the Corphobiast, turning to its true shape. The belt in its hand turned back into a cane. "He forgot you. He _betrayed_ you. Leave him to me! Leave him so I may have my vengeance! So many new fears . . . so many new delicious fears . . ."

Vince looked up at the Corphobiast and shuddered. "Merton remembers Vince now. And this time, Vince will _never _leave him Any lie you tell, Vince will be there to deny it." The green-haired man stood up, fists curled.

"Any form you take, Vince will expose it. Any finger you lift to harm this boy, Vince will take off." A bolt of green plasma shot out and hit the ground before the creature to make a point.

The Corphobiast jumped and backed away, hissing furiously.

"You win! But I will get you for this! And I will make him pay for helping destroy me!"

Vince made another plasma bolt which he held idly in his hand. "Done yet?"

The Corphobiast departed with a pop and a final hiss. Vince and Merton were alone.

Merton opened his eyes, looking up at Vince clearly. "Thank you . . ." he whispered, and tried to sit up.

"Lay still for a while," Vince told him.

"I . . . I'm sorry."

"Merton --"

"No, Vince! I need to tell you this. I should have remembered . . . what you did . . . no wonder you hated me. You . . . I locked you in that chest. I can't believe I forgot about you!"

"Morpheus said you would. Vince didn't want to believe him. While Vince was all alone in that chest . . . he blamed you. He felt that you let him down. He grieved, and then he started to hate. It is Vince who should be sorry."

Merton's eyes filled with tears. "Ah, come here, man!" he whimpered. The green-haired man's eyes widened in surprise as he was enveloped in a bear hug.

He smiled and returned the embrace.

--

"This should do it," Tommy whispered. He and Lori backed up, watching the statue of Merton expectantly.

Nothing happened.

"It didn't work," fretted Lori. "What did we do wrong?"

"I don't know." Tommy scanned the pages of the book. "We did everything right except for turning around widdershins. Who the hell is widdershins?"

Lori leaned in closer to see. "It means counterclockwise. Here, let me show you . . ."

--

Merton gasped as his body began to fade in and out of Vince's arms. Slowly, he sat up, looking in astonishment as his hands became transparent, then solid again.

It didn't hurt; it just felt weird. "Vince, what's going on?" he asked quietly.

Vince blinked. "Merton's . . . waking up!"

"What?! Wait, that means . . . that means they found a cure! I'm saved!" Merton cheered. Vince rolled his eyes fondly as Merton threw his arms around the green-haired man's neck in celebration.

"This is quite different from what Vince has had to deal with for the last few hours."

"Huh? Oh yeah, you mean the waterworks," Merton replied sheepishly.

His friend looked at him seriously. "Vince didn't like seeing you like that. Not one bit." Vince closed his eyes angrily. "For someone to cause you that much pain . . ."

"Vince, it's okay. I forgive you," Merton said softly, putting a hand on Vince's shoulder.

Vince grit his teeth in exasperation. "Vince was talking about _Tommy_."

"Wh--Tommy?? I don't-"

"_Tommy_ made Merton feel this way. If Merton had any faith in that friendship, he wouldn't have fallen prey to that Corphobiast."

"Vince, I was scared. And you know I'm not the most . . . reasonable of people when I'm scared."

Merton grimaced, recalling one of his many panic-attacks in the heat of battle. "I do admit, however, that this was being scared on a more personal level."

Vince nodded in agreement. "Merton thought Tommy was going to leave him here. Thought everyone hated him."

Merton was silent for a while, then gave a faint nod. He shrugged helplessly. "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if I'm just kidding myself. But I know it's just me. Tommy is my friend. You're right. I should have more faith in him if that's true."

Vince made a face. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Merton trust Tommy more than he already did. He wanted Merton to trust _Vince_.

Merton flickered in and out of transparency again, and turned to Vince, suddenly feeling a strong pull into the waking world. "Will I see you again?" the young man asked, eyes full of worry.

Vince grinned. "It'll be Vince, in the Lair, with -- er, maybe _without _the candlestick--" Vince corrected himself when he saw Merton's eyes widen in alarm. The teen sighed in relief and smiled back.

"See you, buddy," the goth called, and in a flash, was gone.

"We did it!" cheered Lori, glomping onto Merton as soon as he was free of his stone form.

The goth blinked and sneezed through the dust in the air surrounding him. And then realized Lori was clinging to him.

In front of Tommy.

Oh, crap.

"Hi! Heh. Uh, what's up, Tommy?" he laughed nervously, trying to disengage himself from Lori.

Tommy sighed and shook his head. "Merton, it's okay. I'm glad you're back. Lori apparently is too." The miffed tone in his voice wasn't lost on Lori who let go of Merton and gave Tommy a look.

"What?" she asked defensively. "Of course I'm happy he's back; he could've been stuck that way_ forever_!"

"Guys, guys, no fighting in the Lair. This is a friendly zone," Merton ventured. "Speaking of which, Tommy . . . where's my hug?"

The werewolf couldn't stop a grin from spreading on his face and swooped the goth up in a bear hug. "I forgive you man," he whispered in Merton's ear. "Even if I don't say so."

Tommy let Merton down and held him at arm's length studying him for any signs of injury.

"Are you alright? Vince came to me in my dreams and told me you were in some sort of trouble. With a Cor-whatsit. Oh, right, the corpse of that Phobiast thing."

"Corphobiast?" Merton asked, and Tommy nodded. "Right. Well, Vince saved my bacon. He got rid of it himself. And . . . if you don't mind . . . we've patched things up between us."

Tommy groaned and Lori blinked in alarm.

"Patched things up? So he's on our team now?"

"No, I'm afraid he's still got a beef with Tommy. And Tommy probably -- and with good cause, I admit - has a beef with Vince."

Merton yelped then at a poke in the ribs. "Whose side are you on?" hissed a voice in his ear.

"You're here already?!" the goth squeaked.

"Where is he?" cried Lori, taking up a kick-boxing position and looking wildly around the room.

"Relax, Vince isn't going to hurt anyone." The green-haired man made himself visible to both Tommy and Lori. "Vince is here to make peace. Just like little buddy said he would." Vince smiled widely and put an arm around Merton's shoulder.

Lori frowned and looked at Tommy, who didn't look so pleased. After a few tense moments of glaring back and forth, Merton gave Tommy a pleading glance. The werewolf sighed, realizing he was going to have to take the first step toward ensuring the peace would stick between them.

"Vince," he started. "Thank you for helping Merton. It's good to know you truly care about him. I only hope you learn to trust me and Lori just as well."

Vince regarded them for a while, then one corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "Vince gets new little buddies?"

"Hey. You can call _Merton_ little buddy, but not me."

"Oh, thanks a lot," the goth muttered.

"And don't blast us with plasma bolts if we get you torqued at something," added Lori.

"And change out of that checkered suit, it totally bites. Are you really planning to walk around in that in public?" came a new voice.

Merton, Lori, Vince, and Tommy - who was still wolfed out - all turned around to see Becky in the doorway.

"S-s-sis??" yelped Merton. Although it was far too late, Merton yanked off the coverlet to his bed and threw it over Tommy anyway.

"Relax, freaker, I already know about Tommy. I've known since you were a statue."

"Aaaaand you don't even _care!?_"

"Not if it's Tommy. I know he'd never hurt anyone," Becky smiled at the jock and winked.

Merton saw the look she was giving him and mentally kicked himself for not noticing it before.

"But how did you find out? I was so careful with guarding the secret . . ." Merton fretted.

"Well, after I dragged him down to the Lair and demanded why there was a life-sized statue of you in the middle of the floor and where could I find the artist to make another one of someone else who isn't really important . . ." Becky flashed another quick look at Tommy, blushed, took a breath, then went back to her impossibly long sentence, "And why you were missing, he sort of got nervous, slipped on a yoohoo bottle, and fell down. Like, totally hard. And turned into Teenwolf."

"And you didn't tell anyone? Who else knows?" Merton grabbed his sister by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Tell me the truth."

"Nobody knows, are you serious? Can you imagine what kind of damage a rumor like that would do to someone like Tommy?"

Becky smiled at Tommy yet again, and turned a little redder. Lori rolled her eyes. Merton glared at Tommy. Tommy was looking _very_ uncomfortable. Vince was trying not to laugh and pounding a fist on the desk from the extent of his efforts.

This brought him back to Becky's attention. "Okay, first, _you_ need a haircut. You look like a rejected understudy for Beetlejuice. The outfit has _got_ to go. And what the heck is with the lipstick?"

Merton put a hand to his forehead. "Becky--" he started.

"Don't interrupt me, freaker, this is life or death fashion. I'm trying to save the man's social life."

"Oy vey," Merton whimpered. This was going to be a long night.

But at the very least, they'd get through it together.

FINIS

**Disclaimer: **Morpheus of Dreams belongs to Neil Gaiman. All other characters belong to Telescene.


End file.
